


Speaker

by Amaradex



Category: Glee, Iskryne Series - Elizabeth Bear & Sarah Monette
Genre: Background Relationships, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:17:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaradex/pseuds/Amaradex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has always dreamed of bonding with one of the psychic bondwolves, of helping people with a friend always at his side. He just wasn't expecting to bond with a queen wolf, requiring him to be the heart of a pack... and deal with the difficult partner of his wolf's chosen mate. An Iskryne world A/U.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my artist [Narya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya) ([livejournal](http://naryakiuxen.livejournal.com/)) whose absolutely fantastic art really brought this piece to life. I am thrilled and honoured to have been able to work with her. Seriously, go check all of her work out - she is fantastic.
> 
> Thanks also to my beta Karen, who puts up with me dragging her into new fandoms with patience and only a few rolled eyes.
> 
>  
> 
> As a note to those who are not familiar with the Iskryne world series - knowledge of that series isn't necessary. In fact, it may help as I have twisted a lot of traditions outlined in it to fit a modern interpretation. Just know that bondwolves are large wolves with the ability to psychically link and communicate with each other and with particular humans. 
> 
> Just as a final note, I will be posting a warning note at the beginning of the chapter with the dubious consent, and a brief summary at the end for anyone who would prefer to skip it.

* * *

 

**ONE**

Kurt shifted uncomfortably under the heavy gaze of the wolflords, feeling more than a little picked apart.  They were both men and he wondered if that was because they were traditionalists or if things had just worked out that way.

One of their bondwolves nosed at the fingers he had clenched tightly around the arm of his chair and he relaxed them instinctually, turning his palm upwards so the wolf could sniff it.  In return, he received a brief sense of approval-pleasure accompanied by the scent of new grass, lavender, and rabbit fur.

“Is that me?” Kurt asked in wonder, abruptly forgetting to feel intimidated.

“Yes,” one of the wolflords said, pulling Kurt’s attention back to him.  “Moscva, tell him your name and mine if you will.”   The wolf, who had also looked over to the man when he spoke, dropped his nose back into Kurt’s palm and looked up at him soulfully.  A moment later, Kurt smelled cold wind blowing over even colder water, with the faintest hint of partially frozen tundra.  Kurt breathed in deeply, trying to get more of the scent, even though he knew that it was purely mental.  Even as he was trying to chase the scent, it changed, Moscva clearly telling him his bondmate’s scent-name.  It smelled like dark loamy earth freshly turned and the faint musk of a badger, and Kurt could make an educated guess at the use-name that the wolflord would have taken upon his bonding.

“Burrows?” he asked as the scent faded from his mind.  The wolflord smiled and nodded, and his companion tilted his head curiously.  His wolf, a fox-red bitch with sharp blue eyes, stepped out from behind him, shouldering her mate aside to lay her head in Kurt’s lap.  He met her eyes unhesitatingly, feeling more comfortable with her than he had with Moscva.

Desert air, hot and unforgiving, tinged with the scent of wet greenness hit his nose and he smiled.

“Nile,” he said, entirely sure of her name, though he couldn’t have said why.  Just like he knew that the way her eyebrows twitched upward was a smile, though he hadn’t even had a dog as a child.  Nile’s bondmate nodded – at her or at his answer, Kurt couldn’t tell – and the scent cut off abruptly.  Almost before Kurt could catch his breath, a new sense-smell was in his mind.  This one was dark and dank, pierced with greenery that was almost as damp as the stone it grew on and in.  It made Kurt’s nose itch, and he had to repress the urge to sneeze.

“Moss,” the wolflord said as the scent cut off again.  “It’s about fifty-fifty for people who love it and those who can’t stand it.”

“It certainly is strong,” Kurt said mildly, trying to discretely rub at his nose.  Burrows laughed and Nile snorted delicately into Kurt’s lap.  She pulled away and Kurt felt her presence slip out of his mind.  He knew that bondwolves didn’t require physical contact in order to touch human minds, but both Nile and Moscva seemed to prefer it.

“Do you want to be a bondmate?” Moss asked abruptly, startling Kurt.

“For myself, yes,” Kurt said honestly, then he hesitated.  “But my mother died when I was young, so I’m the only one my father really has to keep an eye on him and take care of him.  I know that being partnered with a bondwolf will mean that I will have to leave him, and I’m not sure I’m ready to do that this soon…” Kurt trailed off, watching the wolflords’ faces for some sign of understanding or even encouragement.

“We’re stationed in Columbus,” Moss said, neither his face nor his voice giving away how he felt.  “Unless you bonded with a queen or consort, becoming Speaker or Commander, you would have rotating days off, which you could use to visit once you and your wolf were secure in your bond.”

It was tempting, the way the thought of a bondwolf always had been for Kurt.  His aunt had one, a massive grey dog-wolf named Mist, and Kurt had spent a few long summers playing with him every day they had off.  He could remember those days being few and far between, especially for his uncle, who had only had his wife in their home for a few days every other week.  As a teenager, Kurt had come to realize that the resultant loneliness was part of the reason he was allowed to visit for so long.

“Do you not get any time off?” he asked, his brain making notice of the specifications of Moss’ words.

“We do on occasion,” Burrows amended, casting a gaze at Moss, who seemed impervious.  “Just not as often.  Our presence helps things run smoothly, so we’re expected to put the pack ahead of our own personal lives when necessary.  We really only get to put ourselves first when an emergency comes up, and even then most of us tend to make sure the pack is settled and prepared before we go gallivanting off.  It’s in our natures, and even more so in the nature of a queen.”  Moss’ lips twitched at that and Nile snorted an amused noise.

“I’m not likely to bond with a queen or consort anyway,” Kurt prevaricated, eyeing Nile with his peripheral vision.  She bobbed her head slightly, which he took as confirmation of his supposition.  Burrows smiled at him gently, sliding a piece of paper across the small table in front of him.  Kurt leaned forward to pick it up.

“That’s the application form,” Moss said brusquely.  “The pups are due in about three weeks, so you have a little bit of time to consider.  We like to have a few days to prep our candidates, though, so don’t wait too long.  You can mail or fax it in, or bring it to our field office to have it faxed directly to us.”  Kurt listened intently, his eyes flickering over the form.  Most of the questions were fairly standard, information about him personally and legally.  On the back, though, the lower half of the page was taken up twenty questions about his personality.

“To determine if you’re fit to be pack,” Moss told him, forestalling the question before it even left Kurt’s lips.  “Just in case we miss something while we’re talking to you.”  Kurt nodded and stood, holding his hand out politely to the two men.  They shook it firmly, and then Moscva and Nile escorted him to the door, their noses nudging briefly at his hands before they returned to their bondmates.

Kurt blinked rapidly as he stepped out into the brightness of the day.  Feeling a breeze tugging at the form he was still holding, he quickly folded it and tucked it securely in the inner pocket of his coat before hurrying back to his car.  Winter was still clinging on, keeping the temperatures below freezing, and he was anxious to be back inside.  Besides, he had quite a lot to discuss with his dad.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

Kurt was drenched and covered head-to-toe in icy-cold mud and very much questioning the decisions that had led him to decide he wanted to become a wolflord.  Yes, they had been a presence in his life in an overwhelmingly positive way, but he could be in New York with Rachel right now, preparing for Broadway and living in relative splendor rather than suffering.  Or in L.A. with Mercedes, collaborating on some of her tracks and chasing down a recording contract of his own.  He understood that they were effectively military troops, but it had somehow never occurred to him that active bondpairs would have to meet certain physical performance standards.  He was managing to keep up thanks to the strength, stamina, and flexibility he had developed from Cheerios, but it was still a miserable experience.

In fact, Kurt would likely have already quit if it weren’t for the fact that every time he started to contemplate it seriously, a bondwolf would find him.  What they did varied; some would simply introduce themselves while others would sit with him and share feelings of sympathy and hope.  He wasn’t sure if they did the same for other prospects, but of the almost forty young men and women he’d started with, only twenty three were left.  That should still be enough, given that the average bondwolf litter was eleven pups, but they still weren’t through the ‘prep’ period.  The pups were due in three days, and the trainer had told them that they would finish the day before the pups were expected to arrive in order to give them all **some** recovery time.

Not that Kurt thought a day was anywhere near enough recovery time after how difficult the past few had been.  If he hadn’t been keeping track and knew better, he would have sworn he had been there for more than five days.  He knew that he hadn’t been required to attend the prep session, but the way Moss and Burrows had acted when they’d mentioned it and the tone of the man that had taken his application form when talking about it had made it seem less optional and more like a test.

Kurt reminded himself that if nothing else, the time he was spending now would stand him in good stead if he were to bond.  The few bits of information he’d managed to gather suggested that the first few weeks with new pups were the hardest, if for nothing more than that their new bondmates were kept running around after both them and their dam and her bondmate.  With the queen’s litter, that was even more the case.  Of course, the upcoming litter was that of the **former** pack queen, the one Nile had replaced when she went to serve overseas, so there was slightly less pressure, but only slightly.  The training maneuvers they were undergoing certainly weren’t any easier, that was for sure.

When things started to get to him, Kurt would think about his Dad’s reaction to Kurt announcing that he had been accepted as a prospect, often relaying the story to the bondwolves that came to sit with him.  There had been such pride on his father’s face, but also such fear.  Everyone knew that the job of a wolflord was neither easy nor safe, even with the advantages that modern technology had brought.

They were still the ones who harried monsters, driving them out into the reach of those with the firepower to take them down.  They checked for bombs and other dangers that the bondwolves’ superior senses could detect.  Those who desired could join the Army or Marines as scouts, as the former queen had.  In general, they were called in whenever a police, FBI, or military operation was not safe or able to be completed by men on their own.  Of course, that usually only left the most dangerous of jobs.

That danger was what had given Kurt pause.  He knew he wasn’t the strongest or most aggressive of young men.  While the idea of putting himself in harm’s way for the sake of others was more appealing than it really should be, it wasn’t sensible or the best use of his talents.  He couldn’t deny his need to provide something to the world, though, and his Dad had known as much, hence his pride.  Kurt didn’t quite understand it – he was more than a little terrified.  Still, this was one of the few truly traditionally masculine things he was interested in, and Kurt knew that meant a lot to his Dad, despite his best attempts to be accepting.

“Hey Kurt!” one of the others, a young man named Brett, hailed him as he entered the barracks-like building all those who had showed up for the preparation were staying in.  “How was the obstacle course?”

“Cold,” Kurt said bluntly.  “I don’t envy you having to do it in the evening.”  The other young man winced.  They had been split into three groups of roughly the same size on their first day and had been cycling through three tasks or lectures each day.  Kurt’s group had ended up with a highly physical outdoor game in the evening of their first day.  He’d been so stiff the next day that he’d hardly made it out of bed, and his performance in the morning skill challenge had been embarrassing.  He’d made sure to thoroughly steam and stretch himself after every physical activity since then, but the internal stigma stuck with him.  Most of the others tended to agree on the terribleness of evening outdoor tasks, though it was because they all hated being out in the cold once the sun went down.  Not that Kurt liked it either, but Coach Sylvester had had them out later and in worse conditions, so he’d learned to ignore the weather as much as possible.

At his bunk, Kurt peeled off the outer layer of his clothing, depositing it in the communal hamper.  They’d been outfitted with a half-dozen sets of non-descript grey-brown clothing and told that they should probably not wear their own things. Kurt had winced at the boring monotony of the outfit, but had heeded the warning and folded and stored the outfits he had brought at the bottom of his storage chest.  He was grateful that he had – even their indoor classes tended to involve enough physical activity to break a sweat, not to mention requiring a range of movement that his clothes didn’t usually offer.

The showers were enough like the ones in his old locker room to give Kurt the chills, but they at least seemed to have an endless supply of hot water and excellent pressure.  There was a large hot tub filled with mineral water in an adjacent room, one that Kurt had familiarized himself with by now.  The handful of women apparently had a similar set up in their barracks, minus the urinals lining the one wall of the bathroom.  It was a comfortably utilitarian setup, obviously tried, tested, and improved as each group of prospects found flaws or potential improvements.

Kurt showered quickly, wrapping himself in a towel and dropping the remainder of his clothing in another hamper on his way back to his bunk.  Once there, he changed into a fully new set of clothing.  Although he was quick about it and kept the towel around him as much as possible for the sake of its warmth, he felt no shame or fear at being naked in the presence of the others.  In high school, he’d avoided changing or showering if he wasn’t alone due to the reactions of the other boys.  The reputation – and frequent reality – of what bondwolf mating did to human bondmates kept the types of people who would act like that away for the most part, and the personality survey and the attitudes of the wolflords took care of the rest.  It was refreshing to be around people who were at least ambivalent about homosexuality, and Kurt knew from his aunt that the wolflords did their best to ensure that bondmates would end up sharing their wolf’s heat with the sexual partner of their choosing, not just the bond of their wolf’s choice.  It didn’t always work out, of course, and one of the sessions on their first day had been a blunt and highly descriptive accounting of the worst possible scenarios for heat.  That session alone had pruned three members of Kurt’s group.  He himself had had to come to terms with the possibility that he might end up with a female heat partner.  It hadn’t been a comfortable thought for him, but he had come to accept it.  What one did under the influences of some of the most primal of wolf instincts didn’t change what one truly was, after all, and Kurt’s only real problem with women was his lack of attraction to them, which his wolf would take care of.

“Hey, Kurt, you hungry?”  Brett stood at the end of Kurt’s bed, his hands in his pockets and his eyes fixed on Kurt.  “We’re heading to the mess if you’d like to come with us.”  Kurt cast a quick look around the barracks for some of the members of his group, as they usually tried to eat meals together.  None of them were around, so he shrugged his acceptance.

Dinners were a noisy affair; little more than a free-for-all buffet, but with the food already out on the tables in oversized dishes.  Old-school family style, one of the now-departed prospects had wistfully called it.  There were a half-dozen large tables in the dining area, each of which could probably seat up to ten people.  As small as their group now was, there were never more than four in use at any one time.  Occasionally, some of the wolflords would join them, either sitting at their own table or intermingling with the prospects.

Kurt dropped himself into a seat between Brett and a young woman named April, quickly filling his plate from the serving dishes.  They had plenty of food, but the best dishes were usually snatched up early, so he was always sure to get his fair share.  Once his plate was full, he passed the dishes on to April, tucking in to his meal with a will.  Between bites, he exchanged conversation with the others, commiserating about some of the worst of the physical activities.

He was just standing up from the table, empty plate in hand, when one of the other prospects came running in, face red, and shouted, “The pups are coming!”


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

The room was completely silent except for the sounds of twelve hearts pounding and twelve sets of lungs drawing in breath.  Kurt stared down at his hands, clasped so tightly together that his knuckles were white.  He was still struggling to process what had just happened.  The birth had been exhilarating, a rush of energy and untutored mind-touches that sent links spiraling through the group of prospects, fractals that flared up and then faded in seconds.

He hadn’t been chosen, he knew that for sure, but he didn’t think any of the rest had been either.  It was confusing, to say the least.  He’d been under the impression that they would all come out either bonded or not, but there were nine pups, twelve of them in the room, and not a single one looking anything but disappointed.  The only thing keeping Kurt from panicking was the fact that nobody looked like they’d been chosen.

Kurt’s head snapped up as the door opened and his eyes fixed on the wolflord that entered.  She was the one who’d been involved in teaching most of the actual lessons and was one of the few women in this particular pack.  Her expression was mostly neutral, but Kurt began to relax as he saw the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips and a slight twinkle in her eye.  Good news, then.

“Congratulations!” she said once she reached the middle of the room, confirming Kurt’s suspicions.  “You’re our shortlist, the prospects marked by one or more of the pups.  Those of you in groups one and two would have heard about his part of the process earlier today.  For those of you in group three, rest assured that this is perfectly normal and while you might not bond with one of these pups, it’s a pretty good bet that you’ll end up with a mind-mate sooner or later.  For now, just know that none of you were the only one picked by a particular wolf – or you were picked by multiple wolves – and head to your beds.  The others will be leaving in the morning and you will be starting a very busy few weeks, so say your goodbyes and then get some rest.”  She nodded to all of them and left, leaving the door open behind her.  They all exchanged uneasy looks, and then began to trickle out of the room.

As he followed near the end of the group, Kurt started to asses who he had seen in the room and who would therefore be leaving.  April had been sitting across from him, but he hadn’t seen Brett.  He knew that he’d seen two other members of his group, fraternal twins that were nigh inseparable despite the differences in their appearances.  Kurt had also seen Olson, though he’d mostly recognized the young man by his distinctive curly red hair.  The other seven shortlisted prospects were blurring in Kurt’s mind, having been ignored in his state of partial panic.

April was only a few steps ahead of Kurt, so he hurried to catch up.  She had been in group two, so maybe she’d been paying more attention.

“Hey,” he said as he drew alongside her.  She smiled in polite greeting, so he pushed forward.  “So who else got picked?  I saw Sean and Ian and Olson, but I was kind of freaking out too much to pay attention to anyone else.”  April laughed softly, reaching out to pat Kurt’s shoulder.

“Kinda sucks that your group missed out on the talk about what to expect because the pups were early, doesn’t it?” She smiled and winked to show she was teasing, laughing again when Kurt stuck his tongue out at her.

“Santana got picked – only girl other than me.  Finn did too, and Matt.  Sam E., Mike C., Ben and Jeremy from my group.  Seems like group one did really well for themselves though.  Six of them and only three each for us.”

“Maybe three of them won’t end up bonding,” Kurt suggested, earning himself another laugh.

“We can only hope,” April said sardonically.  They had reached the barracks, so with a sarcastic salute, she left him, heading into the girls’ dormitory.  Kurt blinked, left a little gobsmacked by her attitude.  The noise rising from the boys’ quarters snapped him back to reality.

When Kurt entered the building, he was assailed by a veritable wall of sound.  Half of the prospects that hadn’t been picked were packing up their things while the others were gravitating around the other nine who would be remaining.  Between the loud complaints of some of those packing, the rapid-fire questions of the others, and the boasts of a couple of the chosen, there was a steady stream of sound going on around Kurt, one that seemed to be coming from all directions but behind him.

The cacophony was so overwhelming that Kurt simply turned and slipped back out the door before anyone even noticed he was there.  He took a deep breath of the cool evening air, and then headed to one of his favorite places on the property, a small hollow on the bank of the fast flowing stream.  It wasn’t empty – he could see shadows against flickering firelight from a fair distance away – but he forged on regardless.  None of the wolflords had ever discouraged him from joining in on any of their outdoor gatherings.

To his surprise, Burrows and Moss were the occupants of his hollow.  Nile and Moscva lay curled together near the edge of the small space and there was just enough space left for Kurt to sit without brushing up against wolf or man, so he hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the firelight and taking the free seat.

“Kurt,” Moss greeted, inclining his head slightly.  “Not celebrating or saying goodbye to any friends that weren’t chosen?”  The question was casual, but Kurt tensed, suddenly feeling like he was being tested – though on or for what, he couldn’t imagine.

“I’ll say goodbye to those leaving later,” Kurt answered slowly, trying to feel out the reactions of the two wolflords.  “It’s far too busy in there right now.  Any farewells I say will be easily forgotten.  As for celebrating – maybe when I actually bond with a wolf.  Until then, I’d rather focus on what is ahead rather than thinking about what little I’ve accomplished up until now.  Not that being chosen isn’t a great honor!” he hurried to assure them, recognizing how he’d sounded.  The hint of a smile at the corner of Burrows’ lips made him feel like he might not have mis-stepped too badly, though Moss remained as imposingly blank as ever.

“Which of the pups did you like?” Burrows asked after a moment of awkward silence.  Moss shifted slightly, casting his Commander a look that Kurt couldn’t interpret.

“Really they were all wonderful,” Kurt said immediately, feeling like he’d just been walked into a trap.  “I would love for any of them to choose to bond with me!”

“But?” Burrows prompted, raising his eyebrows.  Kurt winced slightly, knowing that the wolflord – or possibly his bondwolf – had sensed that he was holding something back.

“There was something about the burnt sugar bitch,” Kurt admitted.  “I’m pretty sure she’s the reason I’m not packing right now, or at least part of it.”  There was no obvious confirmation of his supposition, but Kurt could feel a soft pleasure coming from Nile, not a direct feed like he would get if she were touching his mind, but strong enough that he was certain he wasn’t making it up.

They lapsed into silence after that, each staring at the flames.  Kurt let himself sink into his own thoughts once he ascertained that neither wolflord seemed inclined to further conversation.  He kept finding himself thinking about his favored pup, about the smoke and burnt sugar smell of her, her silver-and-grey coat, the way that her small muzzle had unerringly found its way into his hand, even though her eyes still weren’t open.  It wasn’t until the fire began to flicker and die that Kurt pulled himself out of his circling thoughts and noticed the lateness of the hour.  He bid a polite farewell to the two men, still occupied enough by his own thoughts that he missed their significant looks as he also said goodnight to their bondwolves.


	4. Chapter 4

** FOUR **

When he was ten, Kurt had helped care for a litter of puppies abandoned on his Dad’s property.  Every other day, he would walk three blocks to the vet that had taken them in to spend the two hours until his dad could pick him up doing everything from feeding to playing with the pups.  He’d cried when they’d all been adopted, wishing that he could have brought even one of them home, despite knowing that he and his Dad couldn’t realistically care for a dog.

Helping with a litter of bondwolf pups was just similar enough that Kurt couldn’t help but fear the same end result, while still being different enough that he still wasn’t quite sure if anything he was doing was actually right.  Their days were primarily given over to the pups, with each of the chosen rotating between pups and assisting more generally.  Kurt almost preferred not being with the pups some days, because as he got to know each of them he despaired of losing all of them if he weren’t chosen.  Each of them spoke to him in a different way, and although the burnt-sugar pup still appealed to him the most, he knew that he could be happy if any of the pups picked him.  What he could not imagine was trying with another pack’s litter if he was not chosen for this one.  Finally, he decided that if it came to that, he would take on a civilian support position with the pack and wait for the next litter to try again.  That way, he could continue to be around these pups, the friends he’d made among both prospects and wolflords, and the many wolves he’d come to know and care for.

It was easier for Kurt to spend time with the pups once that decision was made, though he still tried to keep from getting too attached.  Days began to slip by, marked mostly by major events with the pups.  The day they opened their eyes was cause for celebration, as was the day they began to explore beyond the den on their own.  Kurt was given a day off when the pups were almost three weeks old, and spent it exploring Columbus with his Dad, regaling him with story after story about the antics of the pups.  At the end of the day, his Dad hugged him and told him that he was doing well and his father was proud.  It was more than Kurt could have hoped for, and he felt like he was glowing with pride for the whole next day.

The pups were four weeks old and beginning to show true personality when the first of the selected prospects was eliminated.  Olson had been playing with his preferred pup, a dog whose scent-name was sweet and fruity, when the pup suddenly began to growl.  Olson was quick to release the pup, but he did not stop growling as he backed away.  The rest of the litter was suddenly there, all growling at Olson as he stared at them with tears in his eyes.

“He doesn’t want me anymore!” Olson exclaimed, his voice breaking in the middle of his sentence.  “None of them do!”  He broke down again, his sobs seeming to increase the growling of the pups.  Within moments, Sahara, their instructor, and Pond, the bondmate of the pups’ mother, came running in.

“Step away from them, boy!” Sahara snapped, while Pond inserted himself between Olson and the pups.  Their growling faded away almost immediately as they crowded toward the man that smelled of their mother.  Sahara grabbed Olson by the arm, her face tight with suppressed anger.  Kurt could feel the distress of the pups and wondered how much worse it must feel when one’s bondwolf was echoing and emphasizing it.  If it was anywhere near as bad as Kurt imagined, it certainly explained the female wolflord’s brusqueness with Olson, who seemed to genuinely be in shock over having been rejected.

All of the prospects in the room exchanged looks as Olson was led away, the sense of unease palpable.  Olson had been the most confident of all of them, frequently telling anyone who would listen about the bond he could feel developing between himself and the pup he had identified as ‘his’.  They had all believed him for the most part, and now they were all left wondering if he had been lying or exaggerating or if they were all destined to be rejected.  Kurt was more of the first mindset – he couldn’t believe that Olson had been as close as he had said and still been rejected.  Still, Kurt felt more than a little concerned – Olson had had enough of a connection to the pup to know that he was been rejected.  Kurt couldn’t say that he felt any closer to any one of the pups than any of the others.  He thought he was connecting well with all of them, but he could just be fooling himself.

His concerns only increased a week later when the oldest of the pups bonded with April.  He wasn’t in the room at the time, but had come running at her loud cry, only to find her cradling the sandy colored pup and gazing down at him in joy.

“He’s mine!” she exclaimed when she finally looked up at Kurt, her eyes brimming with tears.  He forced a smile onto his face, unsure of what to do.  Usually, he would hug a friend who had received good news, maybe even suggest some sort of celebration.  None of it seemed applicable in the current situation, so he simply congratulated her and asked if there was anything he could do to help.

It turned out that celebration was an appropriate response, as a small one was held that evening.  It was more about the pups than April, though she certainly received her share of the attention.  It wasn’t anything like the few parties Kurt had been to in high school; much more of what he imagined an adult dinner party was like, rather than the wild, raucous, and frequently alcohol-fuelled celebrations that the Cheerios had thrown after wins.  For Kurt, the highlight of the night was when of one of the older wolflords, a gruff and burly man named Badger, stood beside the fireplace and announced that he would be singing the tale of the first bonding in honor of the occasion.

Kurt’s breath caught in his throat as Badger began to sing in a resonant baritone voice.  They had been told about the use of song to record the history of the packs, and it had been emphasized that these songs were jealously guarded, only taught to wolflords.  To be hearing one when he hadn’t yet been chosen was an honor, and he fixed the moment in his memory.  The song was hauntingly beautiful and Kurt couldn’t help but imagine how he could make it work for his range.  If he did bond with a wolf, he would be able to learn any of the history songs he desired.  Even though all of them were recorded in carefully protected tomes, any wolflord who cared to learn them was encourage to, in order to ensure that they were preserved, regardless of what might come.

The celebration ended after only a few hours, everyone dispersing back to their rooms and, presumably, beds.  Kurt had noticed that the daily life of the pack had barely faltered, even with all the excitement surrounding the pups.  Wolflords had gone out on various assignments, and come back once their work was done, thankfully all whole and healthy.  Others pitched in around the property, leading training sessions for one another as well as for the prospects, recording the experiences of those who went out, preparing tactic recommendations, and otherwise going about the running of the forty-odd-member pack.

The day after the celebrations, two more of the pups chose their bondmates.  Sean and Ian were picked within moments of each other by two pups that had scent-names so strikingly similar that they were almost indistinguishable.  Jeremy was also removed from their group, Sahara informing them that as he had only been selected by one of the pups that had just bonded, he would not need to remain.  With six pups left and seven prospects the sense of urgency among the humans ratcheted up.  There was scrambling amongst them for time with preferred pups, in the hopes that it would give some kind of advantage.  Kurt suspected that it wouldn’t make much of a difference after all of the weeks they had spent with the pups, so he didn’t bother trying to convince Sahara or Pond to give him more time with any of the pups.  Thus, he continued to cycle through each of the pups while the rest focused solely on their chosen pup.

Kurt was playing with his own preferred pup a few days after the party, his first chance to spend time alone with her since Olsen’s departure.  At six weeks old, she was weaned and quite active, her mind constantly brushing against his.  Kurt kept himself as open as possible, letting her read what she wanted as she chose.  Her delight at his actions was easy for him to read, but there was something else in her mental touch that he couldn’t quite understand.  He tried not to let it affect him much, focusing instead on playing with her as she continued to demand.  She was far pushier than she usually was, but instead of it putting him off, it drew him in until he was matching her energy with his own.  He was getting an antsy feeling, and he wasn’t sure if it was from her or himself, but it was causing him to sweat.  Finally, when he was about to drop from exhaustion and simultaneously crawl out of his skin, she began to exude satisfaction.

 _Mine_ , she told him, the feeling so strong, it might as well have been a word, and Kurt couldn’t even begin to deny it.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

The formal bonding ceremony was held when the pups were four months old, a nod to the habit of the wolves of old typically waiting until that age to bond.  The formal ceremony also gave the families of the new wolflords the chance to catch up, meet their wolves, and learn a little bit about the pack.  Any of the pups’ bonds who had already been chosen for particular roles would also be announced.

Kurt’s Dad was planning to come, as were his Aunt Beth and Uncle Darren, much to Kurt’s surprise.  He’d had to clear the presence of Beth (under her use-name of Marsh) and Mist with Moss and Burrows in order to theoretically prevent any issues between the packs.  It was a formality for the most part, but the advanced warning was usually appreciated.  Kurt was just excited to have not only his father but also his aunt and uncle witness his renaming and the naming of his bondwolf.

He already knew what both names would be, based on their scent-names as per the current tradition.  He knew it wasn’t required – Mist was named for the color of his coat and Badger called his bitch Kid for some reason.  Still, Kurt’s use-name name was evident enough, and something that he wouldn’t mind being called.  His bitch’s name had been harder to decide on.  The distinct burnt sugar scent of her was the most identifiable, but underneath that, there was the smoky scent of burning wood and a hint of bitterness.  It put him in mind of the handful of times he and his father had gone camping, of laughter shared over a fire and a sweet treat.  That image had given him his bondwolf’s name, and although it was a bit childish, it was also perfectly evocative.

Thus, when he was called up onto the makeshift stage, Kurt was able to face Moss and Burrows and give them his names with confidence, neatly written so there could be no confusion.

“We welcome Smore and her bond Meadows,” Burrows said formally, as Nile touched her nose to Smore’s and Moss clasped Kurt’s shoulder.  Before Kurt could begin to move, Moss looked down at Nile, and then turned to face the crowd himself.

“Future Queen and Speaker,” he said with equal formality as his Commander’s.  There was a susurrus of whispers as those who understood what had just been declared turned to explain it to those who hadn’t.  Kurt didn’t hear most of it, staring in shock at Moss instead until Smore’s whimpers and a nudge to the back of his knee from Moscva broke the spell.  He hustled off the stage to join the rest of the newly official bonds.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly jumped in shock at the applause as Santana declared herself Lightning and her pup Glacier.  He hastened to join in on the clapping, forcing himself to refocus on the ceremony.  As they were being called in the order of their pup’s birth, Sean was next, choosing to go by Pine to match his brother’s Fir, and to name his pup Carrot.  Beside Kurt, Fir’s pup, recently named Onion, yipped his approval.  Finn was the last naming of the day, and he winked at Kurt as he descended from the stage as Earth, the newly christened Cupcake at his side.

“Congratulations, Kurt!  I mean, Meadows!” April, now Rain, exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him.  Beside her, Desert yipped and nosed at Smore, who only tolerated his antics for a moment before shouldering him aside.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Kurt said in a near-whisper, his stomach in knots.  “I was supposed to just be part of the pack, nothing special, so that I could still be there for my Dad.”  His voice got progressively louder, and April – Rain – backed away slowly, her eyebrows raised.

“Actually, dude, you should come see this.  It might make you feel a little better.”  Earth’s arm around his shoulders was impossible to ignore, so Kurt allowed himself to be steered to look at the crowd.

“That’s my Mom,” Earth told him, pointing to where Kurt’s Dad and aunt and uncle were speaking to a tired-looking woman.  Before Kurt could ask why what he was seeing was important, Earth continued.  “She’s been lonely without me, and she needs someone new to take care of.  I figure her and your dad could at least be friends.  She’d keep an eye on him, and he’d give her someone to fuss over.  We live about half an hour from Lima, so it’s not even too far of a drive.”

Kurt blinked dumbly at him for a long moment before managing to stutter out, “But... how?”

“We played you guys in football a lot,” Earth responded after a brief look at Cupcake, clearly getting the gist of Kurt’s question from his wolf.  “And we were invited to some of your cheerleader parties.  You’re kind of hard to forget, dude.”  Kurt blushed slightly and ducked his head, then straightened when he noticed Earth’s mom and his Dad heading in their direction.

The party that followed the ceremony was less staid than the celebration of April’s choosing, though it was still far more of an adult affair, with background music, canapés, and a limited, albeit open, bar.  The new wolflords and their families mingled with the established members of the pack, with stories both old and new being traded back and forth.  For Kurt, the most interesting thing was observing the interactions of the other new additions and their families.  Ocean’s mother couldn’t seem to stop herself from calling him Sam, and Dust’s father alternated between his use-name and Matt.

“Do you ever wonder why they kept the tradition of changing our names to remove us from our old lives but now encourage keeping at least some connection to our families?”  Kurt turned to look at Mike – now Prairie – surprised to see him alone but for his pup Monkey.

“Didn’t your family come?” Kurt asked before he could think better of the words, and then bit his tongue.

“My Mom is over talking to the pack leaders,” Prairie said with a dry laugh, gesturing to where a woman was indeed talking to Moss and Burrows.  “My Dad didn’t come, though.  He basically disowned me when I told him that I wasn’t going to become a doctor, even if this fell through.  I thought maybe he’d come around now that I actually got chosen, but I guess not.  At least my Mom’s here though.”  He sounded remarkably not bitter about it all, Kurt thought as Prairie left with a brief wave, heading over to stand with his mother.

Kurt allowed himself to be drawn back into the group that included his father, giving him a quick hug of unspoken gratitude.  Throughout the afternoon, the group fluctuated, though it almost always included Kurt, his Dad, aunt, and uncle, Earth, and his Mom, Carol.  Kurt was pleased to see that Carol already seemed to be doting on his Dad, suggesting that Earth’s prediction that they could keep each other company might come true.

At the end of the day, Kurt walked his father back to where a shuttle was waiting to take family members back to Columbus.  After a long day of being social, they were both silent, simply enjoying each other’s company.  At the shuttle, Kurt’s father turned and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m very proud of you, son.  I know you’re worried that you won’t be able to be around and taking care of me as much as you thought, but you have to trust that I’ll take care of myself.  You need to focus on what you’re doing here, OK?”  Kurt blinked back tears and nodded.

“OK, Dad.  I love you.” he croaked around the lump in his throat.  His Dad pulled him into another hug, squeezing him tightly.

“I love you too, son.  Meadows.”  His voice was tight and when he released Kurt he blinked rapidly a few times before bending down to address Smore.

“You take care of him, little lady.  He’ll forget to eat while he’s fussing over someone else if you don’t.” Smore yipped in response before butting him with her head.  With a chuckle and a gentle pat, Kurt’s Dad stood and ascended into the coach, giving Kurt one final wave before he was lost to view behind the tinted windows.

“Kurt, do you have a moment?” Moss asked once the coach had departed.  Kurt nodded his assent, following after the current Speaker in silence.

“Burrows and I have been hoping to transfer to work overseas for several years,” Moss said once they were well away from anyone else.  “Now that you have been chosen and formally announced, we would like to begin the process for that move.  Since some of the current pack will likely follow us, we will be starting with building you a pack while training you.  Some of the pack will stay with you, but you will need new members, particularly ones that do not share genetics with Smore.”  Kurt stared at him blindly for a moment before nodding.  He’d thought he’d have a bit of time to adapt to the new situation, but it seemed that wasn’t to be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who may be confused:
> 
> Glee Characters:  
> Kurt = Meadows - his wolf is Smore  
> Finn = Earth - with Cupcake  
> Matt = Dust - with Bay  
> Santana = Lightning - with Glacier  
> Mike = Prairie - with Monkey  
> Sam = Ocean - with Mango
> 
> OCs:  
> April = Rain - Desert  
> Ian = Fir - Onion  
> Sean = Pine - Carrot


	6. Chapter 6

**SIX**

Finding out that he would be taking over the pack as soon as Smore had picked a mate and thus he needed to be trained was quite the shock.  The sudden busyness of his days was even more so.  He spent his mornings with the other new bonds, learning the harsh realities of the life they had chosen.  In the afternoon, he sat in on every meeting, conference, one-on-one, and planning session that Moss was involved in, even the most sensitive.  Despite the fact that a good bit of the work was related to changing his assignment, Moss reasoned that Kurt would at least be able to observe many of the things best learned firsthand.

Evenings were traditionally given to wolflords as free time for those not out on assignment.  Kurt spent most of his holed up with Moss, Burrows, and occasionally other members of the pack.  He absorbed everything he could of their lectures, stories and words of wisdom, sensing their urgency.  In the first week of his new regimen, Kurt had asked Moss why he was in such a hurry to get reassigned and why he couldn’t stick around until Kurt declared himself ready.

“Smore won’t tolerate Nile’s ongoing presence in her territory once she’s mature,” Moss had explained.  “If you were going to start a new pack, we’d just move you a ways away and continue with your training at more of a distance by visiting you.  That isn’t possible with you taking over the pack and us moving away.  She needs to establish that she now leads this pack from her very first heat, which means that we need to leave within a few days of it starting and avoid physical contact for at least a few months.  Which means I have to train you to the best of my ability in the approximately three months we have.”  His words had shaken Kurt, but also caused him to commit everything he had to making the transition successful.

He was the one who took notes as every member of the pack considered and then chose whether to stay with the pack or go with its leaders.  He worked with Moss to chart the losses of his proto-pack until it was down to twenty-three pairs, including all eight of Smore’s littermates.  And he was the one who put together the call for new members for his eventual pack.  Mostly, he stuck to the standards, accepting all pairs of active service age, regardless of age, gender, race or orientation and asking only that they not have deep ties to either their current pack or their previous life.  The only thing Kurt requested be added was a preference for those that at least appreciated music, even if they weren’t musical themselves.  It earned a strange look from Moss but was duly added, and it made Kurt feel a little less like he was abandoning the life he’d had and the things he’d cared about before.

In truth, Kurt didn’t expect to have a full pack ready by the time Moss and Burrows left.  In his limited free time, he began planning out how he would handle the pack with less than the ideal thirty member minimum.  Smore’s littermates wouldn’t be ready for any complex assignments for at least a year, but they could fill in gaps for simple tasks or around the property.  If the rest of the pack was busy, Kurt himself could likely devote some of his time to things other than the day-to-day management of the pack.  In the end, he determined that as long as he had at least five established pairs join, he could keep them operational until his eight fellows were fully trained.

What Kurt wasn’t expecting was the influx of wolflords and wolves that started to pour in a week after the announcement was sent out.  There were a good number of young pairs, of course, with wolves anywhere from six months to two years old.  However, fully one-third of those arriving were older, even a few to the point where their main contributions would have to be mental rather than physical.  Before long, all of the space in the residential buildings was in use.

Kurt discovered in those weeks that although he would rather not be harsh, it was something of a necessity.  Although they could in theory support up to one hundred pairs, space had to be left for new pups and their eventual bonds, so he couldn’t stretch his budget to the limit, especially this soon.  Even if he could, there would likely be more new arrivals than he could actually afford, hard as it was for him to believe.  Moss helped to teach him the process of vetting interested pairs while Nile guided Smore in her part of the exercise.

Some pairs were easy to eliminate, rubbing either Kurt or Smore the wrong way.  Moss sharing the fact that those pairs could just return to their original packs soothed any guilt Kurt might have felt and he was able to make the cuts.  It was harder to say no to less obviously ill-suited pairs, even with that knowledge.  A few he turned down because they preferred traditional leadership teams, and a few more when they said they would only go out on assignment and not help internally.  He eliminated another dozen or so when he cut any who shared ancestors with Smore for four generations, reasoning that the more unrelated wolves they had the better.

There were still over fifty pairs interested once Kurt had finished the eliminations that were, to him, obvious.  According to Moss, he still had well over a month before Smore would have her first hear, so Kurt decided to give the remaining pairs a reprieve and get to know them better before continuing with his cuts.  A few of them left at that announcement, to Kurt’s surprise, but the majority took it in stride and integrated themselves into the daily life of the pack.

Kurt was now spending the better part of his days simply being with the members and potential members of his pack, doing everything from just listening to them to working alongside them.  As the days faded into weeks, he found himself growing closer to some of the new arrivals and distancing himself from others.  Some left when it became obvious that they weren’t a good fit while others had to be asked to go.  There were a few that Kurt requested to stay, promising them a formal offer as soon as he actually took charge of the pack.

By the time Smore’s heat was due, there were only a dozen pairs left to decide on.  Kurt didn’t necessarily need them – he’d added eighteen new members to his pack already – but he wouldn’t mind having them.  None of them had stood out to him in any way, either good or bad, and none seemed to care overmuch about joining the pack, mostly seeming to view it as a superior alternative to their original pack.

“Leave them for now,” Moss advised when Kurt came to him looking for guidance on the matter.  “It won’t hurt to have extra options for Smore’s mating, and whoever she picks can help you decide if you want to keep any of them.  As much as you are responsible for caring for the pack and speaking to and for it, so your Commander must be responsible for ensuring that you and the pack are able to fulfill your responsibilities, and that the pack is physically whole.  You don’t have to handle everything on your own, you know, as much as it may be instinctual to do so,” he added with a gentle smile.

Kurt knew that Moss was right – he’d sat in on meetings where Burrows had performed the duties of a Commander and even gone above and beyond in order to free Moss up to work with Kurt.  Kurt couldn’t imagine who he would be able to rely on in that sort of way, especially with the health and well-being of the pack.  Still, he figured that he could wait to make decisions on the final twelve pairs as Moss had advised, and make his own choice later, with or without the help of whoever became the Commander.

It was just as well that he chose to leave things as they were, as only two days later, Smore went into heat.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: This chapter contains dubious consent. There are mentions of participation in a sexual encounter as a "best of bad options" choice. Please skip to the notes at the bottom of this chapter for a brief summary if you would prefer to skip over the dubious consent.

**SEVEN**

Sometime in the early 20th century, the nature of the old mating process had been (correctly) identified as inhumane and had been revamped.  Bondmates of bitches could choose to spend the duration of their wolf’s heat alone in a secured room if they chose, though few did so, as it required a physical separation from their wolf.  Another option created was for one or both wolflords involved to spend the mating period with partners more to their taste.  It required some coordination and a willing partner for the wolflord, but it allowed the respective wolves to visit their bonds between bouts of mating.  Finally, there was the option to undergo a traditional mating, allowing one’s wolf to select her mate and accepting that wolf’s partner as one’s own.

Kurt had intended to find himself a partner for Smore’s first heat, but he had never bothered to get around to it.  Faced with the choice of either being separated from Smore or an unknown partner, he sighed and submitted himself to the doctor for a physical before taking a cocktail of medications intended to help him get through the heat in relatively healthy condition.  The bonds of the dogs would be given similar pills, intended to dull some of the ferocity of their reactions as well as assist their health.

The mating itself was a blur for Kurt, little more than flashes of his own sensations getting through the torrent of Smore’s thoughts.  In one of his few moments of clarity of thought, Kurt felt pity for the wolflords who had gone through their wolves’ heat without the benefit of the drugs.  His partner – flashes of tanned skin, shorn hair, and dark eyes – even had enough mental awareness to keep him slicked, fed, and generally cared for.

Sleep was snatched in fits between Smore’s matings and there were no windows in the building – to help keep the scent of mating from spreading – so Kurt awoke from his final nap with a clear head and no idea of what time it was.  He shifted slightly, intending to find out, only to drop back down to the mattress he was lying on with a low groan, his muscles screaming at him in pain.

“Here, drink this,” a voice said from behind him, softly husky in a way that suggested things that Kurt wasn’t ready to think about.  A bottle of water was pressed into his hand and Kurt shifted into a half-reclined position, hissing at the renewed pain, and then downed it quickly.  Once he was done, the man beside him took the bottle back, effortlessly pitching it into a bin in the corner.  Kurt took the opportunity to study him, eyes skipping across his body in blatant curiosity.  Kurt recognized him almost immediately, of course, and was mildly surprised that he was one of the twelve wolflords he hadn’t decided on.  His use-name was Shale, and his wolf Wildfire was all of a year old, still lanky-limbed and limber-jointed.  Another surprise there – Kurt had expected a bigger, stronger, older dogwolf to earn Smore’s attentions.  The males still fought amongst themselves for the bitch in heat – even with the improvements for human bonds, wolfish nature could not be changed or denied – and as much as the bitch could step in to change the outcome, most were disinclined to take anything but the best.  Kurt wondered for a moment if Smore had chosen Wildfire because she thought Shale was particularly appealing to Kurt.

A dismissive feeling from the bitch lying and the end of the bed put paid to that thought.  She informed him rather bluntly of why she had chosen the brown-grey dog, only a few of which had anything at all to do with his human bond.  By the end of it, Kurt was blushing and Shale was staring at him with open curiosity.

“Smore was just informing me of why I’m a fool for thinking she’d take my preferences into account in **her** mating decision,” Kurt admitted, blushing even more when Shale gave him a  pleased smirk and stretched in a movement entirely intended to be eye-catching.

“Glad to know that I’m at least somewhat your type, seeing as you’re stuck working with me and you weren’t even ready to invite me into your pack before this.”  His tone wasn’t sharp, simply matter of factual, but Kurt blushed again nonetheless.

“I just didn’t feel like I was really getting the chance to know or even see the real you.  I’m sure you’ll be a very good Commander.  Smore wouldn’t have chosen your Wildfire if you wouldn’t.”  Kurt tentatively tried moving again, wincing at the twinges of pain it brought, but feeling rather like the sooner they were out of close (naked!) proximity, the better.  He wasn’t able to get further than a sitting position before there was a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Sorry,” Slate said, slightly shamefaced.  “I was just ragging on you.  I always forget that not everyone enjoys being cynical about things.”  Kurt gave him a long look, assessing his sincerity, before nodding his acceptance.  He suspected that he himself was a little overly sensitive, as he was feeling over-exposed and raw emotionally as well as physically.

“I don’t think either of us is at our best right now,” he offered, as much of an olive branch as he was willing to give.  Shale seemed to pick up on that, suddenly affecting a solicitous attitude.

“You must be starving,” he said, scrambling up off the mattress and crossing to the pantry and fridge that would have been stocked up a few days prior in preparation.  He was quick to pull things out and within a few minutes, he was dropping back down to Kurt’s side, an overflowing plate in his hands.  There was quite the selection of food on it, everything from deli meats to fruit to peanut butter coated crackers.  All of it was designed to be quick and easy to prepare and eat and inoffensive to potentially upset stomachs.  Kurt was grateful that he apparently wasn’t the sort to become physically ill after a mating as he devoured the food.

There was more than enough food on the plate, so at Kurt’s urging, Shale shared in some of it.  He also pulled out another bottle of water from what turned out to be a cooler next to the bed. Kurt was quick to drink it and was rewarded by Shale pulling out a bottle of apple juice as well as a third water and passing both to Kurt.  He was obviously aware of the fact that Kurt was dehydrated from the expulsion of vast quantities of fluid, both through sweating and through ejaculation.  The knowledge that Shale knew at least in part because he had caused the sweat and the ejaculation made Kurt flush in discomfort.

There was a chuckle from behind him, and Shale pressed in a little closer to whisper in his ear; “That’s cute.”  Kurt stiffened and pulled away.  He knew what Shale was trying to say and do, but being called cute had always bothered him, and he was too raw emotionally to hide his reaction to it.  Shale pulled back in response and stood, heading to the fridge and beginning to fill the plate again.  Kurt felt a flash of guilt about his reaction – as much as it was instinctual, Shale couldn’t have known about his sensitivity to that one word.

“Shale...” he started, then paused, unsure of how he could phrase what he wanted to say without it sounding like a weak excuse.

“Noah,” Shale said, drawing Kurt’s attention.  He sat down again, placing the plate on the mattress and facing Kurt with a soft smile on his face.  “Or Puck if you’d prefer.  I figure we should at least know each other’s real name if we’re going to be working closely together.”

“Of course,” Kurt murmured, quite taken aback.  “I’m Kurt.  And... I’m sorry about all that.  I’ve never handled being called cute well.”  He smiled sardonically at that, showing that he knew that his reaction was out of proportion.  Shale’s – Noah’s – lips twitched in response and Kurt relaxed slightly.  It seemed like this might not be ridiculously difficult after all.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief summary of this chapter: Smore picks a new wolf named Wildfire that hasn't been accepted into the pack. His bond Shale (Noah/Puck) and Kurt interact awkwardly and both hurt the other's feelings, but come to an understanding.
> 
> I have linked in Narya's art at the very bottom of the chapter - you can scroll up and see it if you would like!


	8. Chapter 8

**EIGHT**

“You can’t keep putting yourself in the position of most danger!” Kurt snapped, forcibly reining in his temper when Smore grumbled.  She was on the verge of her second heat and particularly susceptible to his moods.  He rammed down a flash of irritation with her and the urge to remind her that **she** had picked Wildfire and thus his bond.  Snapping at her would be counterproductive.

“I can and will do as I see fit.”  Puck – it was impossible to think of him as anything else when he got like this – said flatly, not moving from his position reclined on the couch in their shared library-cum-sitting room.  Kurt ground his teeth together in frustration.

“And what will **I** do if you are injured or, heaven forbid, killed?  What will the pack do, especially and of them that are with you at the time?  I understand that you don’t want to send them to face something you yourself aren’t willing to deal with, but you have responsibilities above and beyond theirs, ones that cannot easily be taken on with another.  I’m not asking you to stop going out on assignments, just to pick and choose the ones that can actually benefit from you rather than another pair.  And please, at least lead from within the center of the pack rather than right at the front.  If nothing else, it will allow you to see the movements on the board better.”

Puck opened his mouth, then quite clearly hesitated, likely turning what Kurt had said over in his head rather than immediately arguing with it.  From the tales he had told Kurt of his youth, that kind of thoughtfulness was more than likely Wildfire’s influence.  The young Puck – who would never have suffered anyone to call him Noah – had in fact been sent as a candidate for that litter as part of the punishment for the last in a line of minor infractions against the law.  He was lucky that he hadn’t been afflicted with anything worse than childish rebelliousness enhanced by anger at his family situation and his absent father, and that he had never done anything to intentionally cause harm to either human or animal.  If he had been truly bad in any way or had hurt someone, he would have been immediately turned away and forced into some form of detention center or a military branch that was less forgiving.  Yes, being a bondmate was a life-time commitment, but it was one that came with a lot of acceptance for personal quirks and variations on the role.  Puck had been given the choice of how he wanted to make amends, and he had chosen to take the chance on a bondwolf first.

Kurt wasn’t sure how Puck had made it through the application process in order to be a prospective bondmate, but he rather suspected that his pack had seen the good in him that just needed motivation and guidance.  He had excelled in the training and had easily sailed through the process of being selected – at least according to his recounting of it.  In the end, he had been picked by Wildfire, the eldest of the litter, and had begun the final portion of his training.  He never spoke of why he’d chosen to leave his pack beyond saying that he hadn’t had any issues with them, but hadn’t felt particularly connected to them either.  The one other member of his pack that had joined Kurt’s seemed to corroborate that – they weren’t close, but neither did they avoid each other.

“I’ll try,” Puck said, drawing Kurt’s attention away from his own musings and back to their conversations.  Puck had a faint frown touching his eyebrows, but it seemed to be more one of concentration than frustration or anger, and his eyes showed his honesty.

“Thank you,” Kurt exhaled.  It wasn’t a sure thing, but Smore showed no signs of interest in picking a dogwolf other than Wildfire, and Kurt couldn’t bear the thought of another year or so of working with Puck rather than Noah or Shale – or worse, losing him early on and facing a long period of time running the pack on his own.  “I know it will be hard,” he said, forestalling the other man, “but so long as you try to focus on putting yourself where you will actually do the most good, I think I can handle the fact that you will still be going into danger.”

Noah shifted his legs off the couch and patted the newly emptied seat.  Kurt didn’t hesitate for more than a moment before coming to curl up beside him, happily nestling into his side.  Whatever their issues with each other’s methods of handling their responsibilities, they were perfectly compatible physically.  They hadn’t started a physical relationship right away, of course, both of them needing some time to come to terms with the fact that their attraction was based on something other than their wolves and the mating.  Once they had, they hadn’t danced around each other or the facts, not with the way their wolves made it so very difficult to hide much of their feelings.

It was incredibly satisfying to not have to wonder or worry, to simply give in to their baser needs and desires.  And if Kurt every once in a while wished that their physical synchronization enabled similar mentally and psychologically, he was at least able to reason that they didn’t work poorly together and that they weren’t necessarily meant to be partners forever.  There was enough coming and going amongst the pack, not to mention the likelihood of wanderers arriving for a queen’s mating, that it was entirely possible that Smore would find a different dog more to her taste in some future mating.  At that time, Shale and Wildfire would become nothing more than regular members of the pack, if they even chose to remain after being deposed.

For now, though, they were his and Smore’s partners, and he would do his best to keep the human half of the pair whole and healthy and trust that Smore would work on the canine part of the equation.  She was likely to have had more success – Noah wasn’t stubborn enough to have been ignoring his bondwolf’s suggestions and desires as well as Kurt’s.  Kurt wondered how much of his current capitulation was because of Wildfire rather than his recognition of the validity of what Kurt was telling him.  In the end, Kurt decided, it didn’t matter why Noah changed his mind, so long as he started taking more care of himself and his own safety.

In the days that followed, Kurt could tell that Noah was actually trying to be careful, although he did come back from one assignment with a sprained wrist.  If Smore hadn’t presented Kurt with a sense of the danger that the team that had gone had faced, Kurt would have stormed into the infirmary building in a fury.  Instead he was sitting calmly at the entrance when Noah emerged, and simply whisked him away to his personal room, remaining silent the entire time.  In return, he got a fuller report out of the Commander than he ever had before, and was able to identify a couple of weaknesses in particular pairs that even Noah hadn’t caught on to yet.

The next week was full of much of the same, though Noah was forced to stay well out of any fighting or even heavily physical work due to his injury.  They weren’t in perfect synch, but they were working together much better and Kurt found that he was able to both do his own job more effectively but also help with Noah’s.  He began to see how Moss and Burrows had been able to rely on each other the way they had, and hoped that they could continue to build on the strides they were making after Smore’s heat, provided she chose Wildfire.


	9. Chapter 9

**NINE**

In the wake of Smore choosing Wildfire as her mate again, Kurt expected that things would more or less return to the new normal, with Noah committed to providing support in the way that he was best suited for and not simply throwing himself into situations head first.  The Commander did follow through on his promise to be more involved in the day to day care of the pack, and even seemed to mostly keep himself out of trouble.  The change in his behavior was directed only towards Kurt, everything from suddenly calling him Meadows all the time to avoiding their shared space and leaving it when Kurt entered.  When Kurt asked Smore why things had changed, she could only give him a vague sense of dissatisfaction on Noah’s part, with no further insight as to what he might be dissatisfied with.  Even asking Wildfire didn’t garner Kurt any further information.

It hurt, though he was loath to admit it.  They’d been developing a bond and had been working together much better since Kurt had spoken to him.  Kurt couldn’t even begin to imagine what had changed that in the short amount of time they’d spent together in the heat building, especially given that they’d gone in together joking that if Smore were to pick another male, they could be one another’s companions regardless.  Kurt had been mostly serious about it, and he was now forced to wonder if Noah had picked up on that and felt uncomfortable with it.  It didn’t entirely explain why he felt dissatisfied – Kurt would have expected discomfort, which was a distinct feeling to the wolves – but Kurt readily admitted that there could be other things going on, or perhaps Noah’s usual reactions were different than what Kurt could expect.

Regardless of the reason for his behavior, it set Kurt on edge.  He’d mentally prepared himself to begin sharing more of his burdens with Noah, and the Commander’s pulling away had unbalanced him.  He did his best to keep it to himself and made extra effort to keep it from impacting Smore, but he couldn’t deny that both he and the bitch had been more snappish since he began to notice the distance.  He tried to make up for it by being less harsh when he spoke to and dealt with members of his pack and found that his pack began to fracture slightly, those who needed a firm hand beginning to slide away from those who would do as was expected without needing direction.

Four months after the mating, Kurt finally reached his limit.  A small argument had come up between two of the members of the pack.  As it had started due to a disagreement during an assignment, Kurt had asked Smore to relay a message along to Wildfire.  It was simple and – he thought – polite; a simple sense that Shale – sun-warmed rocks and scrubby growth – was needed and a request that he come.  Kurt knew that things could get lost in translation through the bondwolves, but he thought he had been clear enough.  However, the response that came back through Smore was an equally simple sensation of “busy” and “no”.  And when Smore delivered it to him with the sense that there had been no apologeticness, no hesitance on Shale’s part, Kurt snapped.

A quick query sent out through Smore revealed that Shale was out in the training fields with the newest additions to their pack - the seven bonds of Kid’s latest litter.  Although Kurt was tempted to storm over, he instead took a more cautious approach, leaning against one of the buildings bordering the field and primarily keeping himself in its shade.  It was a tactic he used as much because it was hot out as because it kept him from being easily noticed.  He was fairly certain that Noah had seen him but didn’t know that it was him.  He likely presumed that it was one of the other members of the pack that did training, possibly Sahara, as her Grotto was a similar coloring to Smore.

* * *

* * *

Noah’s actions seemed to confirm that; he trained the new pairs hard but cut the session off short, sending them on their way before turning and heading towards Kurt.  His steps hesitated once as he recognized that Kurt was the one waiting, but he kept moving forward, relieving Kurt.

“Meadows,” he said in polite but formal greeting.  Kurt ground his teeth together for a moment, then forced a small smile on his face.

“Shale,” he drawled, drawing out the use-name and infusing it with a touch of the frustration he was feeling.

“How can I help you, Speaker?”  The question was polite, of course, but the sort of thing that someone would ask the leader of another pack, not their own, and especially not their partner.  It was enough to make Kurt wince, because it meant that things were much worse than he’d expected.

“You can tell me what’s going on with you,” he said bluntly.  “And don’t try to tell me that there’s nothing wrong,” he added, forestalling the protest he saw on Noah’s face.

“I don’t suppose I can say that I don’t want to talk about it?” Noah asked mulishly, frowning when Kurt shook his head.  Noah glanced down at Wildfire for a moment, clearly seeking either advice or comfort from the bondwolf.  Kurt didn’t push Smore to try to determine what was going on.  He was reasonably sure that he was about to get some kind of response, so he was willing to let Noah speak to him in his own time and with his own words.

“I want more,” was Noah’s simple answer, once he was done conversing with Wildfire.  Kurt held back his impatience, simply tilting his head as a signal that he was waiting for the rest of Noah’s explanation.  “I...” Noah continued, then paused again, his face crumpling into a frown of frustration.  Kurt softened towards him a little bit; it was clear that whatever had been causing Noah to act so poorly toward him was more difficult to deal with than he had expected and while it didn’t make up for his actions and attitudes, it did make Kurt more inclined to be charitable.

“I’ve been having a hard time, sleeping together and working together but not really being together,” Noah finally admitted, the words coming out in such a rush that it took Kurt a long moment to decipher them.  A moment that seemed to crush Noah’s hopes, for he was turning away when Kurt looked up again.

“You could have told me,” Kurt admonished softly, wrapping his hand around Noah’s wrist.  The other man looked down at the hand and then up again, dark eyes forcedly blank.

“I just did,” he responded, the words clearly meant to sound like a joke, but the tone tense and unsure.  Kurt gave him a smile as reassurance and squeezed his wrist gently before slipping his hand down to take hold of Noah’s.

“When you first started feeling like this, or even when you first noticed it affecting how you felt and acted,” he corrected gently.  “For the record, I’m quite happy to at least try having a romantic relationship on top of the sexual and working ones, but if I weren’t, I could have at least worked with you to find a good way of making things comfortable or at least functional.”

“Which they haven’t been,” Noah admitted readily, guilt clear on his face.

“No, but now we can get to working on that rather than dancing around one another,” Kurt said.  “And first things first, we have to get our pack back into a cohesive and functional whole.”  Noah nodded and laced his fingers with Kurt’s giving one gentle squeeze before hauling them both towards the main building where their rooms were.  Kurt trailed willingly after him, hoping once again that maybe this time things would truly improve – and stay improved.


	10. Chapter 10

**TEN**

The call came in the middle of the night, and Kurt was awake within seconds, Noah following him by little more than a second.  They’d taken to keeping the phone in Kurt’s bedroom, which they usually slept in, so it was only a short reach away.  Noah took it, rolling out of bed and tugging on his clothes as he answered the questions clearly coming from whomever was on the other end, asking some questions of his own in increasingly sharp tones.  The sound of his voice warned Kurt that something terrible was happening, and he quickly joined Noah in dressing, scrambling to pull out their shoes and help Noah into his.

“We need to rouse all of the pack,” Noah said once he hung up.  “There’s an infestation of wyverns and trolls in Wayne National Forest.  No clue how they got there, but they’ve killed several people already and the Park Rangers are tied up trying to get anyone who was camping there out safely.  It sounds like we’re going to need the whole pack, and we might even want to call in the Cincinnati pack as backup, just in case things are worse than I’ve been told.”  Kurt nodded and headed out to the large assembly area, already having Smore call all the wolves with fighting-fit bondmates.  They came in trickles as their wolves awoke them and informed them of the impending danger, some fully kitted out and others still tugging their clothing on.  Kurt was pleased to see that all of them wore their body armor and camouflage clothing, well prepared for the sort of assignment they would be on.  Noah had trained them all well.

The Commander appeared by Kurt’s side just as he was thinking of him, and Kurt took a moment to lean into him before straightening and turning to face the crowd of men, women, and wolves.

“Do you want to explain anything, or should I just take charge?” Noah whispered into Kurt’s ear as the last few stragglers came into the open courtyard.

“You spoke to the park ranger,” Kurt reasoned.  “You might as well talk to them.  I’ll stick around here to answer any questions while you take charge of getting everything packed up, but otherwise I’ll leave the talking up to you.”  Noah nodded and held up his hands for silence.  Once it was received, he began to bluntly explain the call he had received and the request for their aid.  A few of the older members of the pack paled when he described the ranger’s estimation of the number of trolls and wyverns, but none looked panicked, just concerned and possibly a bit frightened.  The younger wolflords mostly looked determined and not excited, which was a relief to Kurt.  He and Smore had worked hard with Noah and Wildfire to ensure that all of their pack had a solid understanding of the true dangers of the creatures they faced.  It was easy to forget when part of a team of six or eight bondpairs against a single wyvern, as was the case with most of their assignments, and they had wanted to prepare for the day that they faced larger numbers.

That day had clearly arrived, and they were all as ready as they could be.  Noah confirmed out loud to the waiting wolflords that the Cincinnati pack had been called and would be sending at least half of their pack as backup, but that they would be two or more hours behind.  Their pack should be able to hold out for that long, even if the situation in the forest was worse than expected, but they would have to do their best to keep the creatures engaged if they weren’t able to kill them all lest some escape.  One missed troll or wyvern could lead to another infestation five or ten years in the future, and would certainly cause several deaths.  They would likely need the help of the Cincinnati pack, even if it were just to sweep the forest and ensure that no bolt-holes or caves harbored escapees.

Once their pack was dismissed to go assist in packing gear and readying for departure, Kurt stuck around for long enough to determine that no-one had questions, then he hurried back to his room, throwing a few changes of clothing for both himself and Noah into a pack before running back down the stairs.  He knew how fast things could move when the pack was called upon and he didn’t want to miss hopping into one of the transport vans because he’d taken too long.

The first wolflord he saw was thankfully a newer addition, Brook, whose Snow had mated with Glacier.  The young woman seemed to be constantly in a daze, a strange balance to Lightning’s sharp focus and even sharper temper.  It seemed to mellow Lightning to have someone like Brook around and she had been much more tolerable to be around since their wolves’ mating.  At the moment, Kurt was grateful for Brook’s tendency to be absorbed in her own thoughts as he was able to pass his pack off to her to be loaded into one of the vans without any delaying questions.  With that done, he hurried off to try and track down Noah before the Commander got into one of the vans himself.  Kurt had considered tagging along without talking to Noah, but had dismissed the thought almost immediately.  For his own safety, the Commander should know that he was coming along, and he didn’t want to engender any further bad feelings between them because of foolish stubbornness.

“Why?” was the only thing Noah said when Kurt found him and informed him of the Speaker’s intention to come along.

“This is the first time we’ve had a full pack mobilization.  I need to see how we do and whether there’s anything I’m missing in how I handle the pack.  I can also be a help to the medics and be there to support any injured pack members if they need it.”  Noah stared him down for a long moment, but when Kurt didn’t blink, he nodded and ushered the Speaker into the van he’d been about to get into.   Smore and Wildfire jumped in the back along with Cupcake and Bay, while Earth and Dust took seats in the middle row.  Noah was driving, leaving Kurt to take the passenger seat and direct the quick strategy meeting that took place between the three men.  Kurt was surprised to find out that the two bonds of Smore’s littermates were as knowledgeable about the strengths and weaknesses of the majority of the pack as Noah himself was.  He’d known that they were the Commander’s chosen sub-commanders, but he hadn’t thought that they would be as involved in the direction of the pack as it seemed they were.

The drive would usually take the better part of an hour, but they made it in forty-five minutes with the aid of their sirens.  Despite their speed, Noah was a cautious driver, taking turns precisely and avoiding throwing the wolves around as much as possible.  It was only Smore’s third trip in one of the vans, and she gave Kurt an impression of her pleasure with how the trip was going when he checked in on her.  Reassured, he tried to relax and prepare himself for the battle ahead.  He knew he might be needed to actually fight if things went poorly, and he could only hope that he would do well enough to not embarrass himself.  Queens had once been much like any of the other wolves in their participation in hunts and battles, but a shortage of them a few hundred years ago had led to a general policy that they would not be placed in any real danger if it could be avoided.  They were still fierce fighters, but they were too necessary to the well-being of the pack to risk without good reason.

Smore assured Kurt that she was perfectly ready to take on anything that thought to attack her, reminding him that in practice bouts, she usually came out on top against virtually all of the wolves in the pack.  Kurt sent back the image of him losing against their bondmates at nearly the same percentage and received humour from her in return.  She would protect him, she told him, if he insisted on being no more of a fighter than a mere pup.  Kurt mentally stuck his tongue out at her, and hoped that if he was needed, he could at least focus more on the wyverns than the trolls.  It was cool enough out that the wyverns would be slower than usual, and they were not particularly strong.  His main advantage was his speed and flexibility, and if Smore could distract one of the great snake-creatures, he could likely get into position and take off its head with the sword he carried with him.  At least, he hoped he could.


	11. Chapter 11

**ELEVEN**

The infestation was far worse than the park ranger had described, worse even than what they had expected.  The trolls had witches, which hadn’t been seen in decades, and they were well buried in a series of natural and carved caves which ran under a large area of the forest.  Kurt had wondered how such a large group of them had escaped notice for so long before he was far too busy to think of anything but the wolves and wolflords that trickled in with injuries both small and great.  He wasn’t a fully trained medic the way that Quail and Juniper were, but he was an extra set of hands and he was deft enough to tie on bandages and he could certainly provide ice packs and pain medication to those who were already cared for.  Local EMTs showed up about a half hour into the battle and began to make runs with those who were injured seriously enough to require hospital care.  Police from the nearest counties, towns and communities trickled in in small groups as the word was clearly spread by the rangers, the handful of pack members left behind, and the Cincinnati pack members.

When two retired army doctors showed up, Kurt was relieved of his duties as an assistant to the medics.  The Cincinnati pack was only moments behind them, and Smore eagerly indicated that they should lead the reinforcements into battle.  Kurt took a moment to gather up a pistol and shotgun and to make sure that his sword was securely attached, then connected with the Commander of the other pack.  He had brought two-thirds of his battle-ready pairs, the remainder staying behind to cover both of their packs’ territories in the case of any other incidents.  They were all well-armed and had even brought additional firepower and ammunition in large cases carried by the strongest of their pack.

Three more of his pack passed them by as they made the short trek to the entrance to the caves, each bleeding and limping, but all of them and their wolves alive.  Kurt sighed in relief – although there would not be anyone to spare to carry stretchers of the dead, the fact that all of the wounded seemed able to move on their own and they all had wolves was a good sign.

Another good sign greeted him as they arrived at the clearing surrounding the cave entrance – Noah and the majority of the pack with the policemen and women, all of them with guns sighted on the dark opening.  Kurt and the Cincinnati wolflords quickly joined the gathering, the other pack setting up their chosen weapons in what cover they could find.  Kurt took his place beside Noah, a position quickly cleared by Earth, who gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before heading over to a clump of their pack members.

“Pine and Fir are in there, harrying small groups out as they can,” Noah told Kurt without any prompting.  “They’re the quickest and most agile aside from you.  Sahara and Badger have small groups at the bolthole exits we found and are lobbing grenades at anything that dares show its head there.  Once Pine and Fir can’t find anything further in the caves, we’ll all filter in and start combing them.”

“What if they get wise to the fact that we’re forcing them out to their deaths?” Kurt asked, impressed with the plan despite his concerned words.

“Then we try something different,” Noah answered with a shrug.  “With the reinforcements, we might have enough wolves to comb the caves even without getting rid of as many of them as we can first.  I’d just rather not go in there with all of us until I have to.  Pine says the tunnels are twisted and provide plenty of cover for a single troll to hide in.  If we go in as a large group before we’ve killed most of them, we’re going to lose someone to a sneak attack.”

“Where do you want me, then?” Kurt asked, reassured that he didn’t need to think about strategy beyond what he and Smore needed to do.

“Can Smore communicate with the Cincinnati wolves the way she can with ours?” Noah asked, tugging on his lip in thought.  Kurt conferred with the bondwolf for a moment then nodded.

“Not quite as well, but well enough to pass messages across a fair distance.”  Noah hummed and then beckoned politely to the Cincinnati Commander.

“We’re doing well enough here, but we have teams at two boltholes and they may need aid.  Would you consider splitting your force into three, one part to stay here and the other two to join our teams?  Our Queen can speak to your wolves and pass messages back and forth as needed so you won’t be out of touch with any of your pack.”

The Cincinnati Commander was a large man with dark eyes and skin and hair, and silhouetted against the sun, he looked like nothing more than a large shadow, with no easy way to distinguish his features.  Kurt watched his wolf closely instead, trying to determine how his decision was going.  The flat blankness of the wolf meant that Kurt was surprised when the man simply nodded.

“Do you have a preference as to which team I am with?” the Commander asked solemnly.

“I would think that you would be able to do more good with one of the teams at the boltholes, but I trust you to know your abilities, and those of your pack.  It is your choice to make.”  Noah told him.  The other Commander inclined his head in another nod, nothing more than the movement of darkness within darkness and took his leave, going back to his pack and appearing to divide them up into the requested three groups.  Kurt turned back to Noah.

“Do you want me to stay here with you, then, or go to whichever team Night doesn’t pick?”  Noah studied him for a moment, and then shrugged.

“I’d rather you here.  I’m sending Earth and Dust along with whatever teams he sends out there, just to give us an extra line of communication.  Smore and Wildfire can easily communicate at that distance, so you can go with them if you’d rather.”  Kurt smiled, and turned so that he was facing the cave entrance with Noah.

“The only place I’d be of more use is actually in those caves, and I know you won’t allow that.  I’ll stay here.”  The first sentence earned him a brief look of warning before being replaced with gratitude that he was going to let Noah command him for the most part.

The Cincinnati teams moved off, with Earth and Dust leading the one heading to Sahara’s aid while Night led his pack members to where Smore had shown Badger was.  Kurt was kept busy relaying orders, not just to the teams that were moving out, but to individuals in each group.  This was what he and Smore specialized in, what most Queens were meant for, and Kurt allowed himself to be absorbed in the flow of information to the point where he was almost unaware of the exact information he was relaying, pulling it almost directly from Noah to whoever the intended recipient was.  Once everyone was in place, the orders flew quickly from one point to another, with reports coming back every time he touched base.  Kurt fed everything he received from their teams directly to Noah, who was able to react quickly and decisively with every new piece of information.


	12. Chapter 12

**TWELVE**

Pine and Fir reported in after a few hours, both covered in dust and cobwebs but looking thoroughly impressed with themselves.  They had been sending all-clears for the better part of an hour, and Noah had finally called them back and gathered the packs to begin the thorough sweep of the caverns to catch any last stragglers.  Kurt took the time it took the two outranging teams to return to lean back and take a few deep breaths.  They’d had a few more injuries, but miraculously everyone was still alive, even if some of their pack wasn’t going to be going out on any assignments for a few months.  He had to remind himself that the fight wasn’t quite over, that the surprisingly good result might not last through their entrance into the caves.

“You’ll stay outside,” Noah said once the two packs and the local law enforcement had gathered.  He said it quietly enough that it was unlikely that anyone had heard, but the firmness of his voice and the presence of others told Kurt there was no sense in arguing the point.

“And keep running relay?” he asked instead, careful to keep his voice from sounding petulant or upset.  Noah nodded, brushing his hand over Kurt’s shoulder and down his arm in thanks.  He was quick to organize the others, leaving Earth and Badger and a handful of the Cincinatti wolflords and local police with Kurt and sending other small groups back to guard the boltholes, before leading the main group into the depths of the troll and wyvern warrens.  Kurt took a few deep breaths to calm himself, then immersed himself back into the pack bonds, quickly finding Noah, then Night, then expanding throughout the two packs.  He couldn’t do anything about the humans without bondwolves, so he quickly asked those nearest to them to pick an officer and keep them close by.

One of the Cincinnati pack drew a passable map of the caverns as Kurt relayed the movements of their packs to him, tracking where they had covered as best as he could.  Within the first half hour, those inside encountered two small trolls and a clutch of young wyverns tucked into corners and crevices, routing them out with relative ease, but as time dragged on, they cleared more and more of the caves with no results.  Kurt allowed himself some relief – it seemed that Pine and Fir had done an excellent job driving out all of the monsters and there was little for the exploratory group to do but double check that the area was clear.

He was jostled out of his connection with Smore and the pack by a sudden spike of fear from the few wolflords around him, which was swiftly followed by Earth grasping his elbow.  He looked up to see a pair of large trolls and a half-dozen wyverns emerging from the cave mouth.  He couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d managed to get past Noah’s group, but they clearly had.  A quick thought to Smore had her broadcasting a call for help, which was cut short when one of the trolls lunged at her and she had to dodge its fist.  She writhed in mid-air, turning her leap into her own lunge, her teeth catching one of the ears that stuck out of the side of the troll’s head and tearing it off.  The creature howled, rearing back and clapping a hand to the side of its head, where the stump of its ear was bleeding profusely.

That bought Kurt enough time to find one of the shotguns that had been left for their group and bring it to bear on the troll.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the other wolflords and their wolves were tangling with the wyverns while the officers were trying to handle the other troll.  One of the men was lying motionless on the ground, with a faint hint of red on the back of his uniform shirt.  Kurt hoped that he was only injured and stunned, not dead, but he was too far away to check.

The troll advanced once more, enraged by the pain, and Smore darted into its path, drawing it into a turn so that its back was presented to Kurt.  He quickly took aim and shot, reloaded, and shot again, peppering its back with bleeding holes as the shells ripped through the thick hide and into the flesh below.  The creature bellowed in pain and fury, wheeling away from Smore to advance on Kurt.  One of its arms was not moving properly, but it still swung that arm at Kurt, missing only by dint of its injuries and his quick reaction time.  He dodged to the side and out of view behind a rock, quickly locating bullets for the gun in the case that had been tucked behind the same rock.  He loaded the gun with two of the bullets, tucked two more into the holes in the butt of the gun, then filled the satchel attached to his belt with as many shells as he could fit.  He could hear Smore distracting the troll and sense her frustration with the fact that she could not take it down alone, and he kept part of his attention on her, ready to jump in if she needed him.

Kurt gave himself a moment to breathe, checking on the other wolves as he did so.  They were holding up well against the wyverns, with two of the snake-like creatures now dead and a couple of the wolves and their bondmates having moved on to helping with the trolls.  Cupcake joined Smore, the wolf immediately moving to protect his sister and Queen.  Smore exuded distaste at him, but quickly moved to flank the troll with her brother, tartly informing Kurt that it was time for him to come out of hiding and help.  He ascertained Earth’s location from her thoughts, then spun out around the side of the rock to close the square around the troll.

With four enemies out in the open, the creature was briefly confused by its choices, and the wolflords and their wolves quickly took advantage of the hesitation, Smore and Cupcake coming in to harry at the troll’s ankles while Earth and Kurt took shots at its sides and chest whenever they had an opening.  Kurt’s shotgun was leaving gaping holes in the troll while Earth was peppering it with small wounds that still bled profusely.  None of them managed to hit anything vital, but the troll was still slowing visibly as the injuries took their toll.

With its strength diminished, the troll began to fight with as much strategy as it could plan for itself.  Trolls were generally dim, relying on their size and strength to survive, but they were thinking creatures and this one knew it was in trouble.  It backed up against the rocks Kurt had been hiding behind, both wolves having to duck out of the way to avoid being crushed between the troll’s legs and the rocks.  With its back protected, the troll focused on the wolves, seeming to understand that injuring or killing one of them would hurt the humans, who could fight from a distance in a way the wolves couldn’t.

Smore and Cupcake jumped out of the way of the troll’s swings, keeping up a staggered and random-seeming attack where they traded places, circled and lunged, and otherwise kept the creature guessing at where they would be when its fist landed.  Kurt kept a small part of his mind focused on the interplay of their thoughts, monitoring for the best time for a shot or three.  Another part of his mind was focused on Earth, although he only caught snippets of thoughts as Cupcake was primarily focused on Smore and the troll.    Every time Kurt saw an opening, he would both shout and push a mental command out, hoping that at least one would be comprehensible to Earth.  It seemed to be working, and with each volley of shots, the troll slumped further and its swings became wilder.

Seeing an opportunity, Kurt followed behind a concerted one-two attack from the wolves, his gun loaded and held at the ready.  Smore felt his intention and darted at one of the troll’s wrists in her mouth, Cupcake taking the other within seconds.  They pulled using all their strength, even that only enough to just bring their front paws back down to the ground.  Kurt skidded to a stop just below the troll’s head and took careful aim before shooting the creature in the middle of its forehead.  He watched intently as the troll’s eyes blinked once, then twice, then shut, and only realized the mistake of his location when it began to topple forward.


	13. Chapter 13

**THIRTEEN**

Despite what he’d been led to believe by movies and television, Kurt didn’t wake slowly to the sound of beeping or confused by sterile white surroundings.  Instead, the familiar beige of the walls and bedcovers told him he was in the infirmary within seconds of him opening his eyes.  He was also alert enough to notice Noah sprawled out in the bed next to his, the dividing curtains pulled all the way back when they should have been closed.

Kurt’s first action was to check in with Smore.  She had been sleeping on the padded couch-bench at the end of the bed, but lifted her head up to lay it on his foot when she felt him check in on her.  He tried to get a sense of why Noah was in the bed next to him from her, but she could only tell him that he was hurting, but not mortally.  He grumbled playfully at her lack of specificity, then asked her to have Wildfire wake his bondmate.  Within seconds, the wolf’s head popped into view as he first nosed at Noah’s hand, then commenced thoroughly washing it.  It took a few moments, but then Noah was sitting up and spluttering indignantly at his bondwolf and futilely attempting to wipe his hand off on the bed sheets.

Kurt’s laughter turned into a rough cough, and when he was able to clear the tears from his eyes, Noah was perched on the side of the bed, a glass of water in his hand.  He put the straw in it to Kurt’s lips, then used his free hand to help hold his head up so that Kurt could drink.  Kurt appreciated the help – after his coughing fit, his ribs were on fire and he didn’t think he had the strength to hold himself up.

“You’ll need to be careful about that for the next few months,” Noah said softly once Kurt was done drinking and the glass was back on the side table.  “You cracked more than a few of your ribs and punctured one of your lungs.  You’re lucky the only other thing you broke was your nose, considering you had a fully-grown troll fall on top of you.”  His glare was severe, though Kurt could see that with time, the situation would become a humorous story.

“How about you?” he asked, rather than dealing with the recrimination in Noah’s eyes.  “Why are you in here?”

“Minor cuts and a torn tendon in my knee, nothing worse.  I’m mostly here to keep an eye on you,” Noah responded.  Kurt skimmed his eyes up and down the Commander’s body, but he did seem to be remarkably unharmed, considering he was usually the one putting himself in harm’s way.

“The rest of the pack?” he asked, focusing back on what he knew to be most important.  Noah sighed out a breath and nudged him over to make space on the bed, then curled himself into the Speaker’s side.

“No deaths, though I don’t think Badger and Kid will be able to fight any longer.  She took a club to her side that broke most of her ribs, and he broke a leg and an arm protecting her.  They’re both old enough that those injuries won’t heal easily or well.  They have a place as Lore-Keepers if they’d like it, of course, but they likely won’t be pleased to be told that they won’t be fighting anymore.”

Kurt sighed with relief and pressed his face against the top of Noah’s head, drawing in the familiar scent and allowing it to relax him.  They and their pack had – somehow – managed to come through their ordeal with no fatalities.  It seemed unreal, though Kurt knew that it was partly luck, partly circumstance, and partly Noah’s expert leadership.  They would have to ensure that their tactics in the fight were sent around to other packs.  Truly, few would have the sort of pairing of bonds that Pine and Fir being twins engendered, and even fewer of those would have small, quick, clever twins that could provoke trolls and wyverns to move without getting themselves caught or injured.  Still, it could likely be done with a mated pair, and even if many packs wouldn’t be able to implement it, they should still know about it.

“You’re already thinking,” Noah said, gently nudging Kurt’s elbow.

“Of course.  That’s my job.”  Kurt smiled down at Noah, for once feeling like there was nothing coming in between them.

“Not for the next two weeks, and then only if the doctor says you’re fine to get back to light duty.”  Although Noah’s tone of voice was stern, his eyes were soft, and he slid up enough to kiss Kurt gently, before urging the Speaker to settle fully back into the bed.  Kurt didn’t fight him, swiftly falling back asleep with one of his hands resting above Noah’s heart.

That set the pattern for the next two weeks.  Whenever Kurt woke, either Noah or one of the bonds of Smore’s littermates was waiting for him, watching over him.  He learned that Lightning had temporarily taken his place, though mostly as a figurehead, writing down any issues that came to her and only dealing with the most urgent.  She visited him once or twice, asking his advice on urgent but complex matters, and on days where he was awake more often than not, he sent Smore to assist Glacier in handling the pack.

By the time his two weeks of recovery were up, Kurt was more than ready to get back to work, even if it was limited.  The doctor that had been treating all the casualties of the battle initially hesitated, but with Kurt’s promise to take things slowly and Noah’s agreement to keep an eye on the Speaker, the man relented, though not without stern warnings.

Rather than return to the shared quarters, which were on the second floor, Kurt took over one of the guest rooms on the main floor.  It was small, the bed barely big enough for one, never mind two, but it allowed him to get about on his own, which was worth the price of missing Noah for a few weeks.  They still spent plenty of time together, and Noah was always happy to help Kurt slowly make his way to one building or another, but it wore on Kurt.

Still, as the days passed into weeks and he grew stronger and his aches gentled and then ceased, he was finally able to move back into his own room, and spend his evenings with Noah, whether lounging on the couch in their shared office or sharing one of their beds.  The pack seemed to settle with them, basking in their leaders’ comfortable happiness.  They were getting something of a respite from calls for aid, with the Cincinnati, Toledo and Cleveland packs taking up some of the burden so that their pack only had to handle a few calls as they recovered.

At the very end of their reprieve, they held a small party for the pack, as quiet and laid-back as the very first one Kurt had gone to.  This time, however, it him and Noah singing for the pack, telling them of the history of their wolves and their kind.  And as he looked out over his pack and saw their eyes fixed on him, human and wolf alike, he couldn’t help but feel entirely comfortable and pleased with his life.


End file.
